Title: Battle Glow
Author: Celeste
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-15
Character/Pairing/s: Mentioned ShuuxYumi
Warnings/Spoilers: Whole Soul Society Arc
Word Count: 2,123
Time: 1:43 (minor edits)
Summary: Shuuhei wants a rematch.
Dedication: Sophiap- I always enjoy your comments and I'm OMG so happy that you like ShuuxYumi. Haha I hope this isn't too silly for you. ;;
A/N: I've been having a bad week. The internet doesn't work on my computer, editing video takes me six billion years, and I'm behind on my reading and my writing and pretty much the world. I need to buy a $2,000 computer for film school that I can't afford because I'm already paying $40,000 a year for out of state tuition so I can go to film school in the first place. --;; So I needed something to cheer me up a little, and Shuumi always does that, and since I can't reread all the nice ones people wrote me while I'm offline, this is pretty much all I can do on that front. --;;
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.

---

It had been a fluke. It had been a fluke and nothing more, and as Shuuhei stormed towards the eleventh division headquarters he vowed to win back his dignity from Ayasekawa by challenging the fifth seat to a rematch today, believing that because he knew the other man's abilities now, it would be impossible for him to fall for them twice.

Thoughts of he other man had been consuming a good deal of his time lately, bouts of moodiness and rage and disbelief at his defeat to a mere fifth chair compounding the shock of losing a captain and a mentor all in one fell swoop.

At least he could do something about Ayasekawa's part in the whole ordeal.

For one, he could take back his dreams after he defeated Yumichika, steer them away from the ones that had been overwhelming him, his nighttime hours obsessed with that one moment, that split second of utter helplessness he'd felt as Ayasekawa's reiatsu had wrapped around him and stole the breath from his lungs. In his dreams he was forced to relive that moment over and over again, forced to remember how it had felt as that mysterious power had held him in its thrall, holding him as it had slowly wound into every orifice of his body, every pore of his skin, and milked him of all his strength. In his dreams, Shuuhei was always reminded of that moment, that instant of time in which Ayasekawa had sent him to his knees.

Today, he was determined to create something new to dream of, something that involved Ayasekawa bowed to Hisagi's strength in his own moment of utter helplessness.

It was time to turn the tables.

And so it was with these thoughts that Shuuhei found himself at the gates to the eleventh division headquarters. Getting the gate sentry's attention, he inquired for Yumichika and was directed to the training facility, the man on duty telling him that the induction ceremony for new eleventh division recruits from the academy was taking place today and that Ayasekawa-san would undoubtedly be there as a seated officer.

Frowning at that, the ninth division vice-captain wondered as to what said induction ceremony could have involved, given that no other division he knew of performed such a thing for new recruits.

The training facility wasn't difficult to locate, the sounds of loud shouts and jeers from inside guiding him forward.

He slipped inside and found himself in a large dojo, surrounded by screaming, drinking eleventh division members who were eagerly placing bets on something or other and tussling amongst themselves. Scowling at the unruliness of the so-called ceremony, the ninth division death god made his way towards the far side of the room, where he could see light shining off of Ikkaku's familiar, reflective head.

"The hell're you doin' here?" the third seat asked, blinking in surprise as Shuuhei appeared by his side a few moments later.

"The hell is going on here?" Shuuhei countered, eyeing what looked like fifteen or so blindfolded men seated in the middle of the floor's large straw mat.

"Induction," Ikkaku snorted, eyes gleaming anticipatorily. "Business. So we ain't got time to play, Hisagi. Whaddya want?"

"I uh, wanted to talk to Ayasekawa," Shuuhei admitted.

Ikkaku shot him a sharp look. "Oh man, don't tell me he got to you after all!" Madarame exclaimed, looking at Hisagi in disbelief. "Didn't I tell ya…"

"It isn't easy just to stop thinking about it!" the vice-captain growled defensively. "Been on my mind almost as much as the whole thing with taichou…" He sighed. "Can't help it."

Ikkaku slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh fer cryin' out loud. So he beat ya up. He's beat up lotsa guys! I don't understand why you're fool enough to want him to do it again. 'Specially after all that time I spent warnin' ya, like a good pal."

"Oi… don't underestimate me, asshole." Hisagi stood up a little straighter. "I've been training. Strategizing. This time, I can take him."

Ikkaku winced at the choice of words. And then at the foolhardy nature of his friend's plans. "Look," he started. "I mean it, Shuuhei. It's better off fer everyone involved if ya just don't think about Yumichika anymore. And avoid seeing him a lot, 'til you can get over whatever it is that's got yer panties in a twist."

Shuuhei could be obstinate when he was passionate about something. "I'm going to fight him again dammit, and this time I'm going to come out on top."

"Oh god, would ya stop sayin' shit like that?" Ikkaku shuddered. "Look…" he began again, slower this time, "I've seen guys take this path before. It is not a good path to take. And while I don't normally care all that much, seein' as to how you're my friend, and you're kind of impaired, I just wanna warn you personally, as someone who's seen it all…"

"I'm going to do this, Madarame. There's no convincing me otherwise." Shuuhei was determined to defeat that smiling pretty boy and regain his pride as a vice-captain. Maybe even as a man.

Ikkaku sighed at the look in his friend's eye. "Look… can ya at least wait until after the induction ceremony to find him? He's doin' the honors this time, alright? Just uh…just stand there'n watch. Maybe you'll understand everythin' once this is all over."

Hisagi supposed he could concede to that. He was crashing another division's ritual after all, and he couldn't expect Yumichika to drop his duties to battle with him at any moment just because he said so. They still had jobs to do, despite their newfound rivalry.

"ALRIGHT ASSHOLES, time to start, so everyone shut the hell up, wouldja? I wanna get this shit done with before I gotta put Yachiru down fer her afternoon nap."

Everyone silenced immediately at the sound of the eleventh division captain's voice, and from his seat in the front of the room, Kenpachi gave a curt nod, signaling the start of the festivities.

"Alright boys! Please remove your blindfolds! Today, you lucky fellows will have me for your…master of ceremonies."

Shuuhei's ears perked at the sound of that familiar voice, and turning to the other side of the room, he watched as Ayasekawa sauntered onto the stage like a movie star, looking the same as ever as he sparkled down at the new recruits with the sort of confidence that came only with the knowledge that he was absolutely, the most beautiful man in the division.

The new recruits seated on the mat did as they were told and removed their blindfolds, blinking a bit stupidly at the fifth chair as they took him—and the sudden change of light-- in.

"Oi…you're our opponent?" one of the bigger ones asked.

Yumi positively shined. "Yup!"

A general murmur of discontent arose from amongst the freshmen.

Shuuhei supposed they were the 'special' type of graduates that always seemed to find their way into the eleventh division for their first tour of duty. So it was unlikely they would actually know who it was they were dealing with right now.

"Um… I uh, I don't know if I'm comfortable with that," the same newbie told his radiant senpai.

"Aw, you're sweet," Yumichika fluttered, winking. "Don't worry, boys, I'll be gentle."

The young man's face grew red. "Oi… I didn't mean it like that!" he protested. "I ain't inta that fruity shit, ya weirdo. Er, I mean, senpai."

Ayasekawa's smile intensified, but in way that caused everyone to swallow.

Shuuhei felt his heart rate begin to increase at that familiar look. It was the same smile that haunted his dreams at night, the exact one the bastard had used on the rooftop that day, right before he had…

"Your objective, kiddies," Yumichika started, voice dangerously inviting, "is to get me on my hands and knees."

The recruits blinked, a bit horrified.

"And since taichou's watching, he'll determine your initial division ranks by how well you do against me. So if you don't want to be stuck sweeping corridors until you're eligible to make a challenge match—two years from now for newbies—then you'd better try your best, okay? Good luck!"

"Wait, but…"

Kenpachi grunted impatiently. "Start!"

Three of the fifteen new members hit the ground before they could stand.

And all of a sudden, Shuuhei's heart was pounding in his ears, louder than the din of the eleventh division members screaming around him, louder than the sounds of battle on the floor in front of his eyes. He watched intently, studying his soon-to-be-opponent's movements on the mat. Unable to look away, his eyes were locked on Ayasekawa and Ayasekawa alone as the fifth chair did his work.

It was beautiful in its own way, to see that infuriating smile never once leave the fifth chair's face as he danced with the freshmen, the graceful interplay of arms and legs and the enticing swish of black hakama and equally black hair amidst a chaotic sea of frantic, shouting thugs.

Hisagi watched, mesmerized, as Ayasekawa darted in and out of the crowd with surgical precision, teasing mercilessly—a stroked cheek here, a pinched ass there—until his opponents were infuriated (or aroused, as Shuuhei could see red faces and tented pants somewhere amidst the squabble).

Then, then the fifth seat would push in again, teasing turned deadly—a twisted arm, an incapacitated leg, a swollen eye—until his victims were writhing on the floor in pain and disbelief.

And through it all Yumichika's melodious chuckles rang above the dismayed cries of all his partners, the fifth chair's eyes sparkling wickedly as he took his time off-balancing his larger opponents before sending them to their hands and knees, nary a hair out of place on his perfect head as he did.

Hisagi felt his calf muscles clench, his toes curl in his sandals. He closed his hands into fists and looked hard at every play of dark cloth on white skin, every shift of hard muscle and contrasting twitter of soft laughter. The vice-captain felt anticipation for his next chance to challenge Ayasekawa and admiration for the other man's abilities both blaze through his heart simultaneously, causing it to beat so fast he wasn't sure if it wouldn't burst before he got his chance to take Yumichika on.

Two minutes, forty-eight seconds. Fifteen men, dazed or unconscious on the matt.

Two had come in their pants; four had come out of the ordeal with multiple fractures on various parts of their bodies.

And there was Ayasekawa in the middle of it all, prancing out of the mess with nothing more than a satisfied little sigh as he looked over his shoulder and blew a kiss to his victims.

Sweetly, he thanked them for showing him such a good time today. He hoped to work well with them in the future as their beloved senpai.

Watching it all, Shuuhei had to admit to himself that his rival was resplendent in his battle aura, positively red-cheeked and glowing. Even the fine sheen of sweat delicately accentuating the skin on his throat looked magical somehow, and Shuuhei mindlessly trailed the path of one shining drop with his eyes as it passed down that flawless neck, curving into the small section of sharp collarbone the vice-captain could see peeking out from under Yumichika's uniform. He followed it when it fell out of sight, continued to see it in his mind, sliding down past the… and along the…

The vice-captain blinked.

Swallowed.

Down past the… along the…

He let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

He felt lightheaded.

Something low and dangerous was swirling around in his belly then, and taking a stunned step back, Shuuhei stared on as Ayasekawa made it to his captain's side and sat down with a pleased, almost glassy look in his eye. For all intents and purposes, it looked as though the fifth chair had just returned from a particularly lively tumble in the sheets and not the tussle he'd just had with the fifteen burly, brutish academy graduates who were currently groaning on the floor.

Hisagi felt himself swallow when Yumichika placed a hand on his chest, letting out a delicate breath of pure content. "My…that was fun."

Horrified, the vice-captain realized that the boiling he'd felt in his blood moments ago had, in the duration of those two minutes and forty-eight seconds, congregated in one place and one place only on his person.

It was not his heart.

"Oh shit."

From beside him, Ikkaku looked on knowingly, sympathetically.

He reached out and patted Shuuhei on the shoulder.

"Hate to say I told ya so. But well. You know."

END